


Thermostat

by weekend_conspiracy_theorist



Series: Star Trek Prompts [18]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Multi, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 21:59:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16841227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weekend_conspiracy_theorist/pseuds/weekend_conspiracy_theorist
Summary: Nyota is sick.





	Thermostat

**Author's Note:**

> for arbitrarycubes, on tumblr!

When Len stepped into Jim’s quarters- unofficially, _all_ of their quarters, because it was the biggest and had the most comfortable bed and was most central to the rest of the ship- the burning heat hit him like a _brick_.

“Who gave Spock control of the thermostat?” he demanded, shedding his science blues before the door had even finished closing behind him. The thermal undershirt wasn’t much better, of course, but Jim was a harlot who would fondle anyone in further stages of undress, and Nyota could never let herself be upstaged.

(They treated it like a fun little game, who could get Spock to look the most exasperated or who could get Len to yelp the loudest. Idiot children.)

(He kind of loved them.)

Spock looked over at him, one long leg tucked comfortably up beneath himself, the other knee hooked over the edge of the bed. His left hand rested on what appeared to be tangled burrito-like lump of blankets, and the small lines in the corners of his eyes expressed so much concern with so little movement. “I have not adjusted the temperature of the room,” he stated quietly, holding out his right hand with two fingers extended for Len’s greeting touch. “That was Nyota. I believe–”

The door _swooshed_ open once more, and Jim made a strangled noise. “Either I’m in hell, or the heater’s been left on for too long,” he grunted, and smacked Len’s behind as he loped towards the bathroom.

“Dammit, Jim!” He snapped, taking a harsh step to follow–

And the lump on the bed grunted her displeasure at his loud voice. “Sick,” she said, muffled through layers of comforters. “Cold,” she added plaintively; all of her fancy, clever words seemed to be escaping her.

Hell, _full sentences_ were escaping her.

Jim’s annoying existence forgotten, Len lowered himself gently to kneel on the floor next to the bed. He squeezed Spock’s knee, but his attention was fully on the eyes staring out at him from a tiny gap in the sheets. Nyota’s hair was sweat-stuck to her forehead, glistening in the dim lighting of Jim’s quarters, and Len’s heart gave a throb in his chest.

“Don’t need to bother asking if you’re okay, huh?” he asked softly, reaching out to brush that hair back. She keened, low in her throat, eyelids fluttering shut with exhaustion. “Honey, why didn’t you send me a comm? I’ll have to go back to the med bay to get your medicine.”

“Tired,” she murmured, as if that explained things. Maybe it did; they’d all been up and out before her that morning, since she was on a later shift. If she was so exhausted she couldn’t even move…

Other than to crank the thermostat, apparently.

Len snorted, his thumb brushing over her cheek. He could hear the hum of the water start up in the other room as Jim decompressed from a long, stressful day. “Have you eaten today?” he asked, getting only a vague noise in response as he pulled out his tricorder.

“What medicine does she need?” Spock’s hand was running gently over what was probably Nyota’s arm, somewhere beneath the goose down. “I shall comm Nurse Chapel and request its delivery.”

“No, no–” Len waved a hand, settling back on his heels as he turned his attention up at Spock’s dark eyes. His fingers found Spock’s bare ankle, deceptively dainty. “I can do that. Get her into the shower, will you? You know Jim won’t mind sharing–” or holding her up, he added silently, and Spock blinked his acknowledgement– “and I’ll get her some soup and you can get these sheets changed. She’ll feel like a whole new woman.”

“I find this an acceptable course of action.” Spock slipped out of Len’s grip- with a last, lingering brush of affection from one mind to the other- and oh so carefully gathered Nyota into his arms.

She mumbled something Len couldn’t understand through all the slurring; Spock, however- her nose tucked against his bare neck- downright radiated amusement. “It is acceptable to her as well,” he said dryly.

“Those ain’t the words she used,” Len guessed.

“No, they are not,” Spock agreed. He paused for a moment, those dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “She also insists you not turn down the thermostat, nor put your uniform shirt back on before she is awake enough to ogle you properly.”

“Her wish is my command,” Len drawled, rolling his eyes fondly.

“Nyota says ‘Damn straight, baby’,” Spock told him, as he disappeared into the bathroom with his precious cargo, and Len tipped his head back laughing.

Steam curled across the floor from the door he left cracked behind them, and Jim’s voice escaped, too, concern and amusement threading his tone in equal measure as Spock’s lower timbre returned with an explanation. Len needed to comm Christine and make his run to the mess, but first, he needed a peek of that bathroom–his three favorite people, crammed into one place.

(God, how he loved them.)


End file.
